


hard trick

by liadan14



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Also features Top Joe, Anal Sex, Bottom Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Coming Untouched, Edging, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, PWP, Top Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27700310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liadan14/pseuds/liadan14
Summary: “Wait,” Joe gasps out, a hair’s breadth before the edge.Nicky pulls back, a thin strand of saliva spreading between his lips and Joe’s cock.“I want,” Joe says, hips shifting restlessly, precome dripping from his tip. “I want to—”“Oh,” Nicky says.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 28
Kudos: 490





	hard trick

“Wait,” Joe gasps out, a hair’s breadth before the edge.

Nicky pulls back, a thin strand of saliva spreading between his lips and Joe’s cock.

“I want,” Joe says, hips shifting restlessly, precome dripping from his tip. “I want to—”

“ _Oh_ ,” Nicky says.

* * *

It’s not something they do often. There’s just no time for it, mostly. At least, that’s what Joe says. What he means is that, unlike the other half of his soul, he has not been blessed with an overabundance of patience, and while they could take the time more often, Joe can’t stand it.

He’s not even sure about it, now. He knows it was his idea, but it’s torture.

Scratch that, Joe has been tortured. He’s been strapped to a stretching rack; he’s been waterboarded; he’s been tied to a bed while an unfeeling automaton took samples of his skin and bone marrow and sweat and blood and urine.

This might be worse.

“You are exaggerating,” Nicky says, breathless and rosy with satiation, laughing beside him.

Joe groans. “I am not,” he says, teeth clamped together against the thrum of pleasure still heavy in his limbs, against the beat of his pulse in the base of his cock. He’s wet and open where Nicky had been fucking into him, Nicky’s come dripping out of him and onto the towel they had laid out beforehand in increments.

“You wanted this,” Nicky reminds him. He stretches lazily, his spent cock softening against his thigh.

Joe eyes it hungrily.

Nicky claps his hands over it protectively. “No, no,” he says. “I’m done now, love. Take a deep breath. It will get better.”

Joe takes a deep breath.

It does not get better.

* * *

After a week, Joe can’t stand it when Nicky rides him anymore. He has to lift Nicky bodily off his cock.

He falls back into the bedding, fists clenched, trying to breathe.

His cock jerks, lube-sticky head dragging against the hair on his lower belly.

Joe sobs, toes curling. His balls clench.

By the time he manages to open his eyes, Nicky has come all over himself. He’s still fisting his cock as he comes down, the mess of it slicking down his cock with each stroke. His eyes are dark.

“ _Joe_ ,” he says, voice gritty and deep.

Joe has to go to the bathroom and take a cold shower.

* * *

After ten days, he has to switch to silk boxers. Everything else chafes too much.

It’s as much a tease as it is a relief. The fabric is so smooth on the heated skin of his cock that he catches himself squirming up into more than once on the drive back from the grocery store.

He’s hard a lot of the time by now.

It’s kind of ridiculous. When they’re on a mission, they go for much longer without. They’d gone miserable months without, before, in Vietnam. In Spain. In France. And that’s just in the last century or so.

Then again, going months without orgasms is a lot easier when you’re in a war zone, knee deep in muddy trenches and human excrement day in and day than going days without orgasms when the love of your life is fucking you twice daily and it’s only his hand around the base of your cock that keeps you from losing it.

“You can call this off any time,” Nicky reminds Joe mildly, reaching across from the driver’s seat, stroking him through the silk.

Joe’s cock is so hard it’s hot with blood, the cool silk is an unwelcome contrast and there are tears leaking out his eyes from how sensitive he is.

“I want to wait,” he says.

* * *

He can’t sleep behind Nicky.

The last few days, he’s woken up hard, thrusting between the taut, round, _perfect_ cheeks of Nicky’s ass, and only wrenched himself away just in time.

Tonight, he lays down where he always does and abruptly realizes there’s no way he’ll last the night.

Even if neither of them move, this, just this, lying there with his hips nestled against Nicky’s warm body, will get him off sooner or later. It’s all he can do to keep himself from humping Nicky to completion like a dog.

He rolls over onto his back, groaning in frustration.

Nicky follows him over, gathers Joe into his arms instead of the other way around, presses a sleepy kiss to his hair.

“Tomorrow, I think,” he mumbles.

Joe nestles back against his warmth.

It’s been two weeks.

The heat of Nicky’s arm thrown over his chest makes him shiver.

The rub of Nicky’s shirt against his bare back makes him break out in goosebumps.

The press of Nicky’s leg between his own makes him want to grind down.

He’s ready.

* * *

He sleeps fitfully, too excited, too keyed up. Breakfast is an afterthought at best. Even cleaning himself up in the shower in preparation is a tease. Normally, scouring the rim of his asshole with the detachable showerhead before sex is kind of a turn-off and he needs a few minutes of kissing and groping to get him back in the mood.

Today, it’s just more pressure on over-sensitized nerve endings.

Nicky’s waiting for him in bed, fisting his own cock lazily, the lube waiting for them on Joe’s pillow.

Joe falls on him like a starving man.

He gets his mouth wherever he can, Nicky’s nipples, his throat, his collarbone, smeared artlessly against Nicky’s own mouth.

“Shh, shh,” Nicky gentles him, accepting his caresses like he’s just there to catch Joe’s momentum, not to fan the flame.

“Nicky,” Joe says. “Nicky, please.”

Nicky grins, wolf-like, and sits up. He puts Joe on his knees, gets out the lube.

He hasn’t fucked Joe in a few days, too worried Joe wouldn’t hold out and grab himself in the middle of it just to have it done with.

“Do you need me to tie you up?” Nicky asks.

“Maybe,” Joe admits. He’s having a hard time not just touching himself as it is.

With his wrists tied to the headboard, Joe can’t do much more than hiss and flinch at the cold touch of lube against his hot skin. He’s not in any mood to complain – a faster fuck is a better fuck, at this point.

Nicky still feels enormous when he presses in.

Joe can’t get his jaw to close, panting out wordless noises as Nicky carves out a space for himself in the clutch of Joe’s body.

Nicky’s still shushing him, still gentling him, still trying to calm him into something manageable, but they both know it’s a lost cause. Joe arches his body back into Nicky’s touch.

“Don’t worry,” Nicky says, muffled into the skin of Joe’s neck. “We’ll take care of you.”

He fucks Joe slowly, leisurely, pressing deep and grinding tight before pulling out again. Joe writhes and strains against it, wanting more and more and more and knowing Nicky’s right and they need to go for depth over power if they want this to work.

It’s hard to tell his body to wait, though.

His balls are heavy, drawn up tight to his body, his cock is so hard it can barely even stand up under its own weight, flushed purple. Joe’s dizzy; the blood has left his brain, spreading down to flush across his chest, to fill his cock, to pound in time to his frantic heartbeat around Nicky.

Nicky breathes out heavily against his neck and Joe shudders all over, clamping down on Nicky inadvertently.

“Fuck,” Nicky breathes, and the process repeats.

“You’re so sensitive, aren’t you, love,” Nicky murmurs, pulling Joe tighter against him.

“Yes,” Joe sobs. “Yes, yes, yes, more.”

“A little more,” Nicky agrees, and fucks him infinitesimally harder, striking at Joe’s sensitive, swollen prostate with just enough force to make Joe cry out on every thrust.

His balls clench, but they don’t release.

“It’s not enough,” Joe sobs out. “It’s still not enough, I can’t, I won’t—”

It’s a hard trick, is the problem, coming untouched. They’ve tried it, before, without the two weeks of denial, but it just doesn’t happen for Joe; he gets frustrated and miserable and they have to stop. Nicky can’t do it at all, even after a month of denial.

When it does work, though…well. When it does work, it’s worth the effort.

“You can do it,” Nicky says. “You can, just look at you, you’re dripping.”

Joe looks down at himself through hazy eyes. He hadn’t realized he’d started crying.

His cock is dripping, clear, slick liquid pearling down the underside.

“Poor Joe,” Nicky teases, sounding only a little breathless. “All wet and nowhere to go.”

Joe wails at the tease, the thought that Nicky would leave him like this.

“You know I wouldn’t,” Nicky says, with a quick nip at the lobe of Joe’s ear. He switches out his slow grinding thrusts for a hard, deep, pounding rhythm that leaves him too breathless to talk.

It doesn’t matter.

Joe is awash in sensation, each battery of Nicky’s cock against his prostate a starburst of sensation so good his body can barely process it. He’s so close. He can feel it in the balls of his feet, in the backs of his knees, in the clench of his stomach, except that’s just his muscles locked up so tight, straining towards orgasm, that he has to unclench them purposefully to feel anything else at all again.

He whines as the sensation skittering under his skin vanishes again, then gasps as Nicky’s pounding brings it right back, right under the surface.

He clenches down again, his whole body drawing itself tight in anticipation, and then – and then—

He’s not sure what noises he makes when he finally comes, when it shoots out of him hot and wet and messy, all over Nicky’s pillow, but he knows it’s loud and pathetic. All he knows is relief, is the spiraling high of each successive pulse, drawing him up and up and up until his head is spinning and his arms are limp in their bonds.

“Joe,” Nicky is breathing behind him, awed. “Joe, you’re amazing, my sweet man, my lovely man.”

Joe leans back into his touch, overwhelmed.

He hadn’t noticed Nicky slowing, but he notices when Nicky starts up again, jackhammering deep into him, and Nicky’s thighs must be killing him by now, but they’re not stopping, not now, not after that.

Nicky’s rough palm slides around Joe’s still hard cock, and Joe yowls.

“I know you’ve got more for me,” Nicky growls in his ear. “I know you can go again, it will be so good, show me, show me.”

Joe gives it up in increments, pulses that feel like they’re being wrenched from his body, so good he thinks he’s been turned inside out, so good he thinks he might have died a little bit, so good each new pulse is a shock.

When it’s over, Joe finds himself starfished on the bed, face right by the puddle of his own come he left on the pillow.

Nicky is still breathing hard beside him.

“Fuck,” Joe moans.

Nicky laughs breathlessly.

“When I can walk again, I’ll draw you a bath,” he says.

Joe flops his loose collection of body parts in Nicky’s direction until he’s being held.

“Should spoil you,” he points out. “You did all the work.”

Nicky nuzzles into his hair. “We’ll spoil each other,” he decides.

**Author's Note:**

> You ever get so angry and frustrated the only thing you can do is write it off your chest with porn?
> 
> I'm on [tumblr](http://bewires.tumblr.com)


End file.
